


Are You Gonna Be My Girl

by WhiskyNotTea



Series: The songs of our life. [3]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Are you gonna be my girl-Jet, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 07:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20205838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskyNotTea/pseuds/WhiskyNotTea
Summary: She's there, dancing in the same nightclub with him, and Ian knows that he has seen her before. But now he's not going to just stare at her.





	Are You Gonna Be My Girl

[ ](https://whiskynottea.tumblr.com/image/186935266458)

* * *

**Are you gonna be my girl - Jet**

Listen to the song [here](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DtuK6n2Lkza0&t=OWUyNzAxODE2N2U5Y2M0YzBjYjM5YzFkMmM2OWE1ZWMzMDcxNzU1Myx0OFA5SDRUQQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AER6ZUZmW1jZnSm9o9CN4hA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fwhiskynottea.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F186935266458%2Fits-been-a-while-since-ive-written-a-song-fic&m=1).

_Big black boots._

_Long brown hair._

_She’s so sweet._

_With her get back stare._

He had seen her before. One glance at her smile and he was sure of it.

He stared, unmoving, vaguely registering the loud music, the people dancing around him in the nightclub. For a brief moment, the world vanished and all that was left was her. Her brown hair, shining under the lights, gently falling on her shoulders and arms. Her smooth, tanned skin, her slender legs. He wished he’d known her name, just to cry it out across the dancing bodies and make her turn to look in his direction. 

“Ian?” Fergus nudged him in the ribs in an attempt to get him out of his trance, then quickly moved his arms back around Marsali who was dancing in front of him.

Ian mouthed something indistinguishable, keeping his focus on the girl who danced just a few feet away. Her eyes were closed and she seemed lost in the music, her moves fluid, perfect. She was mesmerizing. Ian sipped from his whisky, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

Where had he seen this long neck and brown locks before?

“Hey, are you alright?” Fergus’ words mixed with the music and Ian could hardly make them out.

He mumbled an affirmative, although he wasn’t sure whether that was the absolute truth. His breaths came out faster than usual, shorter than normal.

A blonde girl was dancing next to her, much more aware of her surroundings. She leaned closer to say something in the brunette’s ear in a way that made Ian envy her. They laughed, and Ian felt his heart skipping a beat.

He couldn’t hear her laughter, but the way she rolled her head back in abandonment with her eyes closed made him drain his drink.

He felt a pull towards her, and he made to follow his gut and talk to her when he saw someone else approach the two girls. A tall guy, with chestnut brown curls and wide shoulders. A guy Ian knew more than well.

William.

The moment Ian saw William offering the brown-haired lass a drink, he was absolutely sure of two things. First, that he was giving her a strawberry Daiquiri and second, that this drink was utterly wrong for her.

She was a Margarita girl. Or Gin-tonic. Certainly not a strawberry Daiquiri one.

And what the hell was William doing there?

It was William’s appearance that reminded Ian how he knew the girl. She was working at the same hospital as Auntie Claire, and he’d seen her when he went to pick up his aunt after finishing a late-night shift.

Not that he had seen much of her. She had walked hurriedly along the corridor in her white uniform, in an I-don’t-have-time-for-you manner, and smiled kindly to his aunt, wishing her goodnight, before she’d disappeared in one of the rooms. 

But here… She was in no hurry here. The nurse’s uniform was gone, replaced by a green dress that caressed her curves and moved along with her body as she danced. And she was talking with William. With _William_, of all people. 

William was single, and this girl _did_ seem to be his type… But Ian was single too, and this was the first time a girl had drawn his attention since Emily. 

“Hey, look! It’s William! Right next to the bar!”

Ian rolled his eyes and turned to Marsali. “Excellent observation. Thank you, Marsh.”

The light slap at the back of his head was unavoidable and he had known it.

“Ian Murray,” she started, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’ve told you a thousand times that I hate this nickname.”

“It’s short for Marshmallow!” Ian protested, raising both hands to prove his innocence, and Fergus chuckled next to him.

“We both know it’s not,” Marsali scowled. “And I’m nothing close to a marsh, thank you very much!”

“You have _something_ in common,” Fergus commented, earning a furious glance from his girlfriend. “What? Do you mean you’re not wet?” he murmured, a bit too loudly to keep the conversation private between him and his girlfriend. Ian saw Marsali’s eyes widen and turned away, trying to lower his right eyebrow which had risen in a suggestive way, as if on its own.

His eyes found her again. She was still there – still with William. Ian huffed and focused on them, trying to read their body language.

William had casually leaned near her, but she was keeping her distance. Even though she was talking to him and smiling, she kept her body turned towards the bar, somewhere between William and her friend. It was evident that she was trying to include the blonde girl in their conversation, as well.

_Good_. Ian smiled. A moment later his face was beaming with a wolfish, smug grin.

_Well I could see_

_You home with me_

_But you were with another man, yeah!_

_I know we,_

_Ain’t got much to say_

_Before I let you get away, yeah!_

He started walking to them, then diverted from his direct course and headed to the DJ. He needed a song, a pen, and a piece of paper. He got them all.

The previous song was mixed with the intro of the one he’d asked for, and Ian saw her raising her hands up in the air, her conversation with William abruptly coming to an end. She smiled and started dancing, her moves careful not to spill her drink.

His eyes never left her brown locks as he sauntered towards her, moving between sweaty bodies and loud, singing voices.

Ian stood behind her and reaching out, he took the drink from her hand. His fingers brushed hers and she turned around, frowning.

When her eyes met his, he thought he’d lost his voice. He swallowed with effort, willing his heart to calm down so he could introduce himself, but she beat him to it.

Only that she didn’t exactly introduce herself. Her brow lowered even more, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I thought guys were supposed to buy girls drinks, not take away the ones they have already started drinking.”

He saw the hint of a smile hiding at the corner of her mouth, and his own smile bloomed, wide and challenging. “Guys are supposed to take your drink when they’ll ask you to dance with them. Ye canna dance properly while holding a drink.”

“And are you?”

“Am I?”

“Asking me to dance with you?”

He didn’t reply, just set her drink on the bar with a nod at William who was looking at them with eyes wide in dismay and disbelief. Ian stepped closer to her and moved to the rhythm. A moment later, she joined him.

He should have chosen a longer song.

He sang it to her – more shouted than sang – and when the song had almost finished, he moved closer, whispering something in her ear. 

“What?” Rachel asked, and Ian gave her a cocky grin before he handed her a small piece of paper.

_I said, are you gonna be my girl?_

She read the note the moment the Jet sang the exact words through the nightclub’s sound system. Ian bit his lip and waited, keeping his focus on her. Not sure of what her reaction would be, he slid both hands in his pockets, trying for nonchalance.

She shook her head and started laughing. He smiled, waiting.

“How about telling me your name, first?” she asked when the song ended. She was still grinning.

“Ian,” he replied, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, stronger than the song’s beat. “My name is Ian,” he repeated, out of breath.

“Nice to meet you, Ian,” she said, extending a hand. “I’m Rachel.”


End file.
